{"collection":"Northern European Mythology","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/browse/neu/malory/ma02.htm","path":"neu/malory/ma02.htm","source_url":"https://sacred-texts.com/neu/malory/ma02.htm","text":"Malory: Book Thirteen, Part II\nSacred Texts\u00a0\nMalory Index\u00a0\nPrevious: Malory: Book Thirteen, Part I\u00a0\nNext: Malory: Book Fourteen\u00a0\nPart II\nChapter XIII\nOf The Adventure That Melias Had, And How Galahad Revenged Him, And How Melias\nWas Carried Into An Abbey\n And then rode Melias into an old forest, and therein he rode two days and\nmore. And then he came into a fair meadow, and there was a fair lodge of\nboughs. And then he espied in that lodge a chair, wherein was a crown of gold,\nsubtily wrought. Also there were cloths covered upon the earth, and many\ndelicious meats set thereon. Sir Melias beheld this adventure, and thought it\nmarvellous, but he had no hunger, but of the crown of gold he took much keep;\nand therewith he stooped down and took it up, and rode his way with it. And\nanon he saw a knight came riding after him that said: Knight, set down that\ncrown which is not yours, and therefore defend you. Then Sir Melias blessed\nhim and said: Fair lord of heaven, help and save thy newmade knight. And then\nthey let their horses run as fast as they might, so that the other knight\nsmote Sir Melias through hauberk and through the left side, that he fell to\nthe earth nigh dead. And then he took the crown and went his way; and Sir\nMelias lay still and had no power to stir. In the meanwhile by fortune there\ncame Sir Galahad and found him there in peril of death. And then he said: Ah,\nMelias, who hath wounded you? therefore it had been better to have ridden the\nother way. And when Sir Melias heard him speak: Sir, he said, for God's love\nlet me not die in this forest, but bear me unto the abbey here beside, that I\nmay be confessed and have my rights. It shall be done, said Galahad, but where\nis he that hath wounded you? With that Sir Galahad heard in the leaves cry on\nhigh: Knight, keep thee from me. Ah sir, said Melias, beware, for that is he\nthat hath slain me. Sir Galahad answered: Sir knight, come on your peril. Then\neither dressed to other, and came together as fast as their horses might\nrun, and Galahad smote him so that his spear went through his shoulder, and\nsmote him down off his horse, and in the falling Galahad's spear brake. With\nthat came out another knight out of the leaves, and brake a spear upon\nGalahad or ever he might turn him. Then Galahad drew out his sword and smote\noff the left arm of him, so that it fell to the earth. And then he fled, and\nSir Galahad pursued fast after him. And then he turned again unto Sir\nMelias, and there he alit and dressed him softly on his horse tofore him, for\nthe truncheon of his spear was in his body; and Sir Galahad start up behind\nhim, and held him in his arms, and so brought him to the abbey, and there\nunarmed him and brought him to his chamber. And then he asked his Saviour. And\nwhen he had received Him he said unto Sir Galahad: Sir, let death come when it\npleaseth him. And therewith he drew out the truncheon of the spear out of his\nbody: and then he swooned. Then came there an old monk which sometime had been\na knight, and beheld Sir Melias. And anon he ransacked him; and then he said\nunto Sir Galahad: I shall heal him of his wound, by the grace of God, within\nthe term of seven weeks. Then was Sir Galahad glad, and unarmed him, and said\nhe would abide there three days. And then he asked Sir Melias how it stood\nwith him. Then he said he was turned unto helping, God be thanked.\nChapter XIV\nHow Sir Galahad Departed, And How He Was Commanded To Go To The Castle Of\nMaidens To Destroy The Wicked Custom\n Now will I depart, said Galahad, for I have much on hand, for many good\nknights be full busy about it, and this knight and I were in the same quest\nof the Sangreal. Sir, said the good man, for his sin he was thus wounded;\nand I marvel, said the good man, how ye durst take upon you so rich a thing\nas the high order of knighthood without clene confession, and that was the\ncause ye were bitterly wounded. For the way on the right hand betokeneth\nthe highway of our Lord Jesus Christ, and the way of a good true good liver.\nAnd the other way betokeneth the way of sinners and of misbelievers. And\nwhen the devil saw your pride and presumption, for to take you in the quest of\nthe Sangreal, that made you to be overthrown, for it may not be achieved but\nby virtuous living. Also, the writing on the cross was a signification of\nheavenly deeds, and of knightly deeds in God's works, and no knightly deeds in\nworldly works. And pride is head of all deadly sins, that caused this knight\nto depart from Galahad. And where thou tookest the crown of gold thou sinnest\nin covetise and in theft: all this were no knightly deeds. And this Galahad,\nthe holy knight, the which fought with the two knights, the two knights\nsignify the two deadly sins which were wholly in this knight Melias; and they\nmight not withstand you, for ye are without deadly sin. Now departed Galahad\nfrom thence, and be-taught them all unto God. Sir Melias said: My lord\nGalahad, as soon as I may ride I shall seek you. God send you health, said\nGalahad, and so took his horse and departed, and rode many journeys forward\nand backward, as adventure would lead him. And at the last it happened him to\ndepart from a place or a castle the which was named Abblasoure; and he had\nheard no mass, the which he was wont ever to hear or ever he departed out of\nany castle or place, and kept that for a custom. Then Sir Galahad came unto a\nmountain where he found an old chapel, and found there nobody, for all, all\nwas desolate; and there he kneeled tofore the altar, and besought God of\nwholesome counsel. So as he prayed he heard a voice that said: Go thou now,\nthou adventurous knight, to the Castle of Maidens, and there do thou away the\nwicked customs.\nChapter XV\nHow Sir Galahad Fought With The Knights Of The Castle, And Destroyed The\nWicked Custom\n When Sir Galahad heard this he thanked God, and took his horse; and he\nhad not ridden but half a mile, he saw in a valley afore him a strong castle\nwith deep ditches, and there ran beside it a fair river that hight Severn;\nand there he met with a man of great age, and either saluted other, and\nGalahad asked him the castle's name. Fair sir, said he, it is the Castle of\nMaidens. That is a cursed castle, said Galahad, and all they that be\nconversant therein, for all pity is out thereof, and all hardiness and\nmischief is therein. Therefore, I counsel you, sir knight, to turn again.\nSir, said Galahad, wit you well I shall not turn again. Then looked Sir\nGalahad on his arms that nothing failed him, and then he put his shield afore\nhim; and anon there met him seven fair maidens, the which said unto him: Sir\nknight, ye ride here in a great folly, for ye have the water to pass over.\nWhy should I not pass the water? said Galahad. So rode he away from them and\nmet with a squire that said: Knight, those knights in the castle defy you, and\ndefenden you ye go no further till that they wit what ye would. Fair sir, said\nGalahad, I come for to destroy the wicked custom of this castle. Sir, an ye\nwill abide by that ye shall have enough to do. Go you now, said Galahad, and\nhaste my needs. Then the squire entered into the castle. And anon after there\ncame out of the castle seven knights, and all were brethren. And when they\nsaw Galahad they cried: Knight, keep thee, for we assure thee nothing but\ndeath. Why, said Galahad, will ye all have ado with me at once? Yea, said\nthey, thereto mayest thou trust. Then Galahad put forth his spear and smote\nthe foremost to the earth, that near he brake his neck. And therewithal the\nother smote him on his shield great strokes, so that their spears brake. Then\nSir Galahad drew out his sword, and set upon them so hard that it was marvel\nto seet it, and so through great force he made them to forsake the field;\nand Galahad chased them till they entered into the castle, and so passed\nthrough the castle at another gate. And there met Sir Galahad an old man\nclothed in religious clothing, and said: Sir, have here the keys of this\ncastle. Then Sir Galahad opened the gates, and saw so much people in the\nstreets that he might not number them, and all said: Sir, ye be welcome, for\nlong have we abiden here our deliverance. Then came to him a gentlewoman\nand said: These knights be fled, but they will come again this night, and here\nto begin again their evil custom. What will ye that I shall do? said Galahad.\nSir, said the gentlewoman, that ye send after all the knights hither that\nhold their lands of this castle, and make them to swear for to use the\ncustoms that were used heretofore of old time. I will well, said Galahad.\nAnd there she brought him an horn of ivory, bounden with gold richly, and\nsaid: Sir, blow this horn which will be heard two mile about this castle.\nWhen Sir Galahad had blown the horn he set him down upon a bed. Then came a\npriest to Galahad, and said: Sir, it is past a seven year agone that\nthese seven brethren came into this castle, and harboured with the lord of\nthis castle, that hight the Duke Lianour, and he was lord of all this\ncountry. And when they espied the duke's daughter, that was a full fair\nwoman, then by their false covin they made debate betwixt themself, and the\nduke of his goodness would have departed them, and there they slew him and\nhis eldest son. And then they took the maiden and the treasure of the\ncastle. And then by great force they held all the knights of this castle\nagainst their will under their obeisance, and in great service and truage,\nrobbing and pillaging the poor common people of all that they had. So it\nhappened on a day the duke's daughter said: Ye have done unto me great wrong\nto slay mine own father, and my brother, and thus to hold our lands: not for\nthen, she said, ye shall not hold this castle for many years, for by one\nknight ye shall be overcome. Thus she prophesied seven years agone. Well,\nsaid the seven knights, sithen ye say so, there shall never lady nor knight\npass this castle but they shall abide maugre their heads, or die therefor,\ntill that knight be come by whom we shall lose this castle. And therefore\nis it called the Maidens' Castle, for they have devoured many maidens. Now,\nsaid Galahad, is she here for whom this castle was lost? Nay sir, said the\npriest, she was dead within these three nights after that she was thus\nenforced; and sithen have they kept her younger sister, which endureth great\npains with more other ladies. By this were the knights of the country come,\nand then he made them do homage and fealty to the king's daughter, and set\nthem in great ease of heart. And in the morn there came one to Galahad and\ntold him how that Gawaine, Gareth, and Uwaine, had slain the seven brethren.\nI suppose well, said Sir Galahad, and took his armour and his horse, and\ncommended them unto God.\nChapter XVI\nHow Sir Gawaine Came To The Abbey For To Follow Galahad, And How He Was\nShriven To A Hermit\n Now, saith the tale, after Sir Gawaine departed, he rode many journeys,\nboth toward and froward. And at the last he came to the abbey where Sir\nGalahad had the white shield, and there Sir Gawaine learned the way to sewe\nafter Sir Galahad; and so he rode to the abbey where Melias lay sick, and\nthere Sir Melias told Sir Gawaine of the marvellous adventures that Sir\nGalahad did. Certes, said Sir Gawaine, I am not happy that I took not the way\nthat he went, for an I may meet with him I will not depart from him lightly,\nfor all marvellous adventures that Sir Galahad achieveth. Sir, said one of the\nmonks, he will not of your fellowship. Why? said Sir Gawaine. Sir, said he,\nfor ye be wicked and sinful, and he is full blessed. Right as they thus stood\ntalking there came in riding Sir Gareth. And then they made joy either of\nother. And on the morn they heard mass, and so departed. And by the way they\nmet with Sir Uwaine les Avoutres, and there Sir Uwaine told Sir Gawaine how he\nhad met with none adventure sith he departed from the court. Nor we, said Sir\nGawaine. And either promised other of the three knights not to depart while\nthey were in that quest, but if fortune caused it. So they departed and rode\nby fortune till that they came by the Castle of Maidens; and there the seven\nbrethren espied the three knights, and said: Sithen, we be flemyd by one\nknight from this castle, we shall destroy all the knights of King Arthur's\nthat we may overcome, for th love of Sir Galahad. And therewith the seven\nknights set upon the three knights, and by fortune Sir Gawaine slew one of the\nbrethren, and each one of his fellows slew another, and so slew the remnant.\nAnd then they took the way under the castle, and there they lost the way that\nSir Galahad rode, and there every each of them departed from other; and Sir\nGawaine rode till he came to an hermitage, and there he found the good man\nsaying his evensong of Our Lady; and there Sir Gawaine asked harbour for\ncharity, and the good man granted it him gladly. Then the good man asked him\nwhat he was. Sir, he said, I am a knight of King Arthur's that am in the quest\nof the Sangreal, and my name is Sir Gawaine. Sir, said the good man, I would\nwit how it standeth betwixt God and you. Sir, said Sir Gawaine, I will with a\ngood will shew you my life if it please you; and there he told the hermit How\na monk of an abbey called me wicked knight. He might well say it, said the\nhermit, for when ye were first made knight you should have taken you to\nknightly deeds and virtuous living, and ye have done the contrary, for ye have\nlived mischievously many winters; and Sir Galahad is a maid and sinner never,\nand that is the cause he shall achieve where he goeth that ye nor none such\nshall not attain, nor none in your fellowship, for ye have used the most\nuntruest life that ever I heard knight live. For certes had ye not been so\nwicked as ye are, never had the seven brethren been slain by you and your two\nfellows. For Sir Galahad himself alone beat them all seven the day tofore, but\nhis living is such he shall slay no man lightly. Also I may say you the Castle\nof Maidens betokeneth the good souls that were in prison afore the Incarnation\nof Jesu Christ. And the seven knights betoken the seven deadly sins that\nreigned that time in the world; and I may liken the good Galahad unto the son\nof the High Father, that light within a maid, and bought all the souls out of\nthrall: so did Sir Galahad deliver all the maidens out of the woful castle.\nNow, Sir Gawaine, said the good man, thou must do penance for thy sin. Sir,\nwhat penance shall I do? Such as I will give, said the good man. Nay, said Sir\nGawaine, I may do no penance; for we knights adventurous oft suffer great woe\nand pain. Well, said the good man, and then he held his peace. And on the\nmorn Sir Gawaine departed from the hermit, and betaught him unto God. And by\nadventure he met with Sir Aglovale and Sir Griflet, two knights of the Table\nRound. And they two rode four days without finding of any adventure, and at\nthe fifth day they departed. And every each held as befel them by adventure.\nHere leaveth the tale of Sir Gawaine and his fellows, and speak we of Sir\nGalahad.\nChapter XVII\nHow Sir Galahad Met With Sir Launcelot And Sir Percivale, And Smote Them Down,\nAnd Departed From Them\n So when Sir Galahad was departed from the Castle of Maidens he rode till\nhe came to a waste forest, and there he met with Sir Launcelot and Sir\nPercivale, but they know him not, for he was new disguised. Right so Sir\nLauncelot, his father, dressed his spear and brake it upon Sir Galahad, and\nGalahad smote him so again that he smote down horse and man. And then he drew\nhis sword, and dressed him unto Sir Percivale, and smote him so on the helm,\nthat it rove to the coif of steel; and had not the sword swerved Sir Percivale\nhad been slain, and with the stroke he fell out of his saddle. This jousts was\ndone tofore the hermitage where a recluse dwelled. And when she saw Sir\nGalahad ride, she said: God be with thee, best knight of the world. Ah certes,\nsaid she, all aloud that Launcelot and Percivale might hear it: An yonder two\nknights had known thee as well as I do they would not have encountered with\nthee. When Sir Galahad heard her say so he was adread to be known: therewith\nhe smote his horse with his spurs and rode a great pace froward them. Then\nperceived they both that he was Galahad; and up they gat on their horses, and\nrode fast after him, but in a while he was out of their sight. And then they\nturned again with heavy cheer. Let us spere some tidings, said Percivale, at\nyonder recluse. Do as ye list, said Sir Launcelot. When Sir Percivale came to\nthe recluse she knew him well enough, and Sir Launcelot both. But Sir\nLauncelot rode overthwart and endlong in a wild forest, and held no path but\nas wild adventure led him. And at the last he came to a stony cross which\ndeparted two ways in waste land; and by the cross was a stone that was of\nmarble, but it was so dark that Sir Launcelot might not wit what it was. Then\nSir Launcelot looked by him, and saw an old chapel, and there he weened to\nhave found people; and Sir Launcelot tied his horse till a tree, and there he\ndid off his shield and hung it upon a tree. And then he went to the chapel\ndoor, and found it waste and broken. And within he found a fair altar, full\nrichly arrayed with cloth of clene silk, and there stood a fair clean\ncandlestick, which bare six great candles, and the candlestick was of silver.\nAnd when Sir Launcelot saw this light he had great will for to enter into the\nchapel, but he could find no place where he might enter; then was he passing\nheavy and dismayed. Then he returned and came to his horse and did off his\nsaddle and bridle, and let him pasture, and unlaced his helm, and ungirt his\nsword, and laid him down to sleep upon his shield tofore the cross.\nChapter XVIII\nHow Sir Launcelot, Half Sleeping And Half Waking, Saw A Sick Man Born In A\nLitter, And How He Was Healed With The Sangreal\n And so he fell on sleep; and half waking and sleeping he saw come by him\ntwo palfreys all fair and white, the which bare a litter, therein lying a\nsick knight. And when he was nigh the cross he there abode still. All this\nSir Launcelot saw and beheld, for he slept not verily; and he heard him say:\nO sweet Lord, when shall this sorrow leave me? and when shall the holy vessel\ncome by me, where-through I shall be blessed? For I have endured thus long,\nfor little trespass. A full great while complained the knight thus, and always\nSir Launcelot heard it. With that Sir Launcelot saw the candlestick with the\nsix tapers come before the cross, and he saw nobody that brought it. Also\nthere came a table of silver, and the holy vessel of the Sangreal, which\nLauncelot had seen aforetime in King Pescheour's house. And therewith the sick\nknight set him up, and held up both his hands, and said: Fair sweet Lord,\nwhich is here within this holy vessel; take heed unto me that I may be whole\nof this malady. And therewith on his hands and on his knees he went so nigh\nthat he touched the holy vessel and kissed it, and anon he was whole; and\nthen he said: Lord God, I thank thee, for I am healed of this sickness. So\nwhen the holy vessel had been there a great while it went unto the chapel\nwith the chandelier and the light, so that Launcelot wist not where it was\nbecome; for he was overtaken with sin that he had no power to rise ageyne the\nholy vessel; wherefore after that many men said of him shame, but he took\nrepentance after that. Then the sick knight dressed him up and kissed the\ncross; anon his squire brought him his arms, and asked his lord how he did.\nCertes, said he, I thank God right well, through the holy vessel I am healed.\nBut I have marvel of this sleeping knight that had no power to awake when this\nholy vessel was brought hither. I dare right well say, said the squire, that\nhe dwelleth in some deadly sin whereof he was never confessed. By my faith,\nsaid the knight, whatsomever he be he is unhappy, for as I deem he is of the\nfellowship of the Round Table, the which is entered into the quest of the\nSangreal. Sir, said the squire, here I have brought you all your arms save\nyour helm and your sword, and therefore by mine assent now may ye take this\nknight's helm and his sword: and so he did. And when he was clene armed he\ntook Sir Launcelot's horse, for he was better than his; and so departed they\nfrom the Cross.\nChapter XIX\nHow A Voice Spake To Sir Launcelot, And How He Found His Horse And His Helm\nBorne Away, And After Went Afoot\n Then anon Sir Launcelot waked, and set him up, and bethought him what he\nhad seen there, and whether it were dreams or not. Right so heard he a voice\nthat said: Sir Launcelot, more harder than is the stone, and more bitter than\nis the wood, and more naked and barer than is the leaf of the fig tree;\ntherefore go thou from hence, and withdraw thee from this holy place. And\nwhen Sir Launcelot heard this he was passing heavy and wist not what to do,\nand so departed sore weeping, and cursed the time that he was born. For then\nhe deemed never to have had worship more. For those words went to his heart,\ntill that he knew wherefore he was called so. Then Sir Launcelot went to the\ncross and found his helm, his sword, and his horse taken away. And then he\ncalled himself a very wretch, and most unhappy of all knights; and there he\nsaid: My sin and my wickedness have brought me unto great dishonour. For when\nI sought worldly adventures for worldly desires, I ever achieved them and had\nthe better in every place, and never was I discomfit in no quarrel, were it\nright or wrong. And now I take upon me the adventures of holy things, and now\nI see and understand that mine old sin hindereth me and shameth me, so that\nI had no power to stir nor speak when the holy blood appeared afore me. So\nthus he sorrowed till it was day, and heard the fowls sing: then somewhat he\nwas comforted. But when Sir Launcelot missed his horse and his harness then he\nwist well God was displeased with him. Then he departed from the cross on\nfoot into a forest; and so by prime he came to an high hill, and found an\nhermitage and a hermit therein which was going unto mass. And then Launcelot\nkneeled down and cried on Our Lord mercy for his wicked works. So when mass\nwas done Launcelot called him, and prayed him for charity for to hear his\nlife. With a good will, said the good man. Sir, said he, be ye of King\nArthur's court and of the fellowship of the Round Table? Yea forsooth, and my\nname is Sir Launcelot du Lake that hath been right well said of, and now my\ngood fortune is changed, for I am the most wretch of the world. The hermit\nbeheld him and had marvel how he was so abashed. Sir, said the hermit, ye\nought to thank God more than any knight living, for He hath caused you to\nhave more wordly worship than any knight that now liveth. And for your\npresumption to take upon you in deadly sin for to be in His presence, where\nHis flesh and His blood was, that caused you ye might not see it with worldly\neyes; for He will not appear where such sinners be, but if it be unto their\ngreat hurt and unto their great shame; and there is no knight living now that\nought to give God so great thank as ye, for He hath given you beauty,\nseemliness, and great strength above all other knights; and therefore ye are\nthe more beholding unto God than any other man, to love Him and dread Him, for\nyour strength and manhood will little avail you an God be against you.\nChapter XX\nHow Sir Launcelot Was Shriven, And What Sorrow He Made, And Of The Good\nEnsamples Which Were Shewed Him\n Then Sir Launcelot wept with heavy cheer, and said: Now I know well ye\nsay me sooth. Sir, said the good man, hide none old sin from me. Truly, said\nSir Launcelot, that were me full loth to discover. For this fourteen year I\nnever discovered one thing that I have used, and that may I now wyte my shame\nand my misadventure. And then he told there that good man all his life. And\nhow he had loved a queen unmeasurably and out of measure long. And all my\ngreat deeds of arms that I have done, I did for the most part for the queen's\nsake, and for her sake would I do battle were it right or wrong; and never did\nI battle all only for God's sake, but for to win worship and to cause me to be\nthe better beloved, and little or nought I thanked God of it. Then Sir\nLauncelot said: I pray you counsel me. I will counsel you, said the hermit,\nif ye will ensure me that ye will never come in that queen's fellowship as\nmuch as ye may forbear. And then Sir Launcelot promised him he nold, by the\nfaith of his body. Look that your heart and your mouth accord, said the good\nman, and I shall ensure you ye shall have more worship then ever ye had.\nHoly father, said Sir Launcelot, I marvel of the voice that said to me\nmarvellous words, as ye have heard toforehand. Have ye no marvel, said the\ngood man, thereof, for it seemeth well God loveth you; for men may understand\na stone is hard of kind, and namely one more than another; and that is to\nunderstand by thee, Sir Launcelot, for thou wilt not leave thy sin for no\ngoodness that God hath sent thee; therefore thou art more than any stone, and\nnever wouldst thou be made neysshe nor by water nor by fire, and that is the\nhete of the Holy Ghost may not enter in thee. Now take heed, in all the world\nmen shall not find one knight to whom Our Lord hath given so much of grace as\nHe hath given you, for He hath given you fairness with seemliness, He hath\ngiven thee wit, discretion to know good from evil. He hath given thee prowess\nand hardiness, and given thee to work so largely that thou hast had at all\ndays the better wheresomever thou came; and now Our Lord will suffer thee no\nlonger, but that thou shalt know Him whether thou wilt or nylt. And why the\nvoice called thee bitterer than wood, for where overmuch sin dwelleth, there\nmay be but little sweetness, wherefore thou art likened to an old rotten tree.\nNow have I shewed thee why thou art harder than the stone and bitterer than\nthe tree. Now shall I shew thee why thou art more naked and barer than the fig\ntree. It befel that Our Lord on Palm Sunday preached in Jerusalem, and there\nHe found in the people that all hardness was harboured in them, and there He\nfound in all the town not one that would harbour him. And then He went without\nthe town, and found in the middes of the way a fig tree, the which was right\nfair and well garnished of leaves, but fruit had it none. Then Our Lord cursed\nthe tree that bare no fruit; that betokeneth the fig tree unto Jerusalem, that\nhad leaves and no fruit. So thou, Sir Launcelot, when the Holy Grail was\nbrought afore thee, He found in thee no fruit, nor good thought nor good will,\nand defouled with lechery. Certes, said Sir Launcelot, all that you have said\nis true, and from henceforward I cast me, by the grace of God, never to be so\nwicked as I have been, but as to follow knighthood and to do feats of arms.\nThen the good man enjoined Sir Launcelot such penance as he might do and to\npursue knighthood, and so assoiled him, and prayed Sir Launcelot to abide with\nhim all that day. I will well, said Sir Launcelot, for I have neither helm,\nnor horse, nor sword. As for that, said the good man, I shall help you or\ntomorn at even of an horse, and all that longed unto you. And then Sir\nLauncelot repented him greatly.\nHere leaveth off the history of Syr Launcelot.\nAnd here followeth of Sir Percivale\nde Galis which is the fourteenth book.","title":"Malory: Book Thirteen, Part II","type":"page"}